Tales of the Wasteland
by Jack E. Jones
Summary: The story of the Peach Creek inhabitants as they deal with surviving a disaster that devastated the planet. Join Eddy as he tries to make a name for himself in New Las Vegas and Jonny on his spiritual journey to Canada.
1. Chapter 1

_Middle of Nowhere, Nevada_

 _2 years after disaster_

 _5:35 p.m._

The long, straight road that led to nowhere stood empty and unused. Long, broken lines of abandoned and rusted cars went on for miles with seemingly no end in sight. Every once and a while, a skeleton or two would be found in a seat, frozen in their last moment of terror before succumbing. Once in a while, something useful could be found on some of them; whether it be a pair of shoes, an unused medical kit or whatever, something could be found. In this place though, it was highly unlikely. Thanks to the conditions out in this part of the land, anything that was remotely usable was either destroyed or covered up with sand and forgotten and since there wasn't a town or settlement for the next few miles, anyone traveling along this road would have to make with what they got.

Every so often, a traveler would be seen walking this road. Although it was a highly dangerous road to take, merchant bands or lone travelers would take this road. They usually took it because it was a straight shot to California, where rumors of a sanctuary had took root. Today, only one traveler would be spotted taking this road. Though anybody who roamed the wasteland looked unusual, this one stood out the most. He had on a leather jacket, which many would think would be a detriment considering he was out in the desert. However, since the disaster, the climate itself had actually made the land cooler. His camouflage pants and black boots gave him an older, militaristic look. Yet, when someone saw his face, covered up by a mask, they knew he wasn't even out of his teens yet. To go in further detail, he looked somewhere between sixteen and nineteen. Yet he had that look that many survivors had; the dead, tired look of someone who has seen many horrors. He stood about five foot four, smaller than average. His hat covered long black hair, kept back by a ponytail. His eyes, though dead, had a piercing mischief about him. This boy (or should we say man) had a wit about him. One look in his eyes and you could tell that he was smarter than most people. Maybe not book wise as, by his own volition, he never understood school, but he could pick a person apart by one look. He knew your weaknesses and when to exploit them. It was an almost admirable trait out in the wasteland, to be able to understand someone and use them to your advantage. It could help in many situations and it's helped him survive for as long as he had.

But, he wasn't one to just use his mind to defend himself. Like any sensible person, he was armed. He held an MP5, something he had scavenged off of a dead SWAT (or what passed for a SWAT) officer in the last settlement he went to, as his main weapon. In his backpack, he held a few boxes of ammo that he had also unscrupulously scavenged and on his right hip he had a Glock that he had scammed off of a dirty old man. Should those fall out of commission, he always had his Bowie knife; a 'gift' from his father. The knife was a foot long, fixed, held on a wooden handle. A few weeks ago, he modified the handle with an extra blade in the butt. _Just in case,_ was his excuse. However, as he looked around, he noticed nobody was in sight. A part of him made him want to put his guard down, but something more logical, more primal, kicked in and told him to always be ready. He had a run-in with a gang four days ago, which he successfully alluded, but he had to be careful. He was exposed, alone, and was only one man against a sect of a gang. If something should go wrong, there was a high chance of getting killed. In his mind, should he get killed, he wouldn't think about what had gone wrong, mourn his own loss or mourn never seeing his friends again. Should he get killed, he would miss the chance to catch the almighty dollar. For he was a greedy soul; a hungry, ambitious spirit something akin to a lone wolf. And he was just as tough as one, too.

A few hours later, the sun was beginning to go down and it began to get dark. Seeing no other option, he found an old truck lying out on the side of the road and made camp. He lit a fire, threw his supplies in the trunk and took inventory. Three road flares, two med kits, four boxes of ammunition, about three weeks' worth of canned food, a couple items of clothing, sleeping bag and about three hundred and fifty dollars. He knew the money nowadays was worthless, but money was always his goal to have as a child. He couldn't get enough of it; every day, it was money first, then whatever else second. However, since the disaster, he knew it was obsolete as people nowadays would want goods rather than paper. But, it still gave him comfort to know that it was there. And it was a hefty amount for him, too. He never had more than fifty bucks in his pocket growing up. Now, he could have as much as he wanted and could take it whenever he found it. It made him grin a greedy grin as he stuffed it back in his backpack. He shoved his supplies under the truck and unfolded his sleeping bag in the cabin. As he removed his jacket and boots to make himself comfortable, he slid smoothly into the bag and zipped himself in. Before he could fall asleep, he turned on his flashlight and checked his map. On his map, circled all in red, was the city of Las Vegas. Months ago, when he was traveling the Midwest, he heard a rumor that the city was still up and running. Anybody who was looking to make a name for themselves or just wanted to drown in excess and greed was heading out there. His grin widened and it didn't go away as he turned off his flashlight and put his map away. As he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but dream of the mountains of money he'd win, the floozy girls and the excess of alcohol he would drink. All for him; his reward for enduring the hardships of the putrid life on the road.

"Look out, Vegas." He said, slowly. "Papa's coming for ya…"

 **Author's Note: This is the first chapter, a test to see how far I've come. Give me your feedback. More to come.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Yellowknife, Canada_

 _8:38 p.m._

 _2 years after disaster_

All is quiet in the barren lands of Yellowknife. The natural beauty of the land remained undisturbed after the disaster; even when survivors looking for a place to start anew, they were careful to not disturb the peacefulness of the land they treaded on. In return, the land offered them plenty. It offered them animals to hunt, fish to catch and while it was hard to grow crops, they still got by with artificial ways to grow them. The town of New Ontario, with a population of 580, seemed to be a haven available to those who were lucky enough to survive the dangerous journey north, with bandits and gangs being part of the problem. While the land itself was beautiful, Mother Nature could be vindictive. In the winters, snowstorms were common and the whiteouts were so bad people could barely see a foot in front of them. Some of the ones who foolishly decided to travel there in the winter lost their lives on the trek, while some of the lucky ones barely made it through starvation and terrible cases of frostbite that left some with missing appendages.

However, New Ontario was still a budding town. Comprised of an abandoned small town whose name was forgotten and some shantytowns on the outskirts, the populace still continued to grow. It was founded by a group of lumberjacks and their superiors who were lucky enough to have survived thanks to being isolated from the main part of the disaster. While they escaped that cleanly, the main challenge for them was trying to survive in the barren and frozen wilderness. After a rough start, the founders eventually settled for the town that they presently inhabit. There, they got the word out through ham radio to other survivors in the area and after about a hundred people or so trekked across the land to get there, they decided to give their new settlement a name. After naming it New Ontario, they eventually began to their journey to restart and recreate civilization. Many of the inhabitants settled down and had families and a political system resembling the American mayor was established. Instead of having a four year term, they added another two years, making the mayor serve six years in office. They eventually added a trading system and police force. It seemed all was good in New Ontario.

However, like all settlements, they had the occasional run-in with bandits. Like many new settlements, it was at first under control of a small yet powerful gang called The Roamers. In a fit of irony, The Roamers had settled in to the town and claimed it as their own. Their reign, however, would last for only a few months; a mysterious stranger that had walked into town by accident, searching for shelter on his journey. The stranger could have been no more than seventeen at the time, yet when he spoke, he spoke like he had lived a thousand lifetimes. Both bandits and residents found him eccentric not only in his manner of speech, but physically for he dressed simple; he wore the same coat, pants and boots, all khaki. Around his neck, he had beads which he called his 'prayer beads'. His face was soft yet stern, no wrinkles except for three on his frown line and around his lips. He was bald, clean shaven; an unusual sight for New Ontario. He also wore a face mask to protect himself from the elements. He carried no backpack with him, living only off of what he could hunt and scavenge.

His choice of weaponry was also different; his weapon of choice was a homemade bow and arrow that he had fashioned from natural objects. Though they were made from the forests, they were exceptionally crafted and it earned respect from the populace. To make something like that required an exceptional skill, which in his young age surprised a lot of people. Besides that, he carried a simple walking stick. He didn't carry guns as he claimed they were 'too noisy'. When they asked him where he had come from, he simply stated he was from 'the road'. The cryptic talk was intimidating to some and many even questioned his sanity. Yet when they snickered behind his back, he only smiled and kept right on his business. Eventually, the Roamers had had enough of him and decided to force him out. When they found him at the local watering hole, they told him that he wasn't welcome there anymore and if he wanted to stay he would have to pay a 'permission' fee. Without even batting an eye lash, the drifter got up from the chair he sat on, grabbed his things and wandered out into the wasteland.

But, it wouldn't be the last time they would have a confrontation with him. Hours later, the stranger returned. Taking shelter in an abandoned cabin about two miles from the settlement, he realized that the town needed to be liberated. After scoping out the entire town from afar, he took his time and formulated a plan. He returned in the dead of night, just as things were settling down. He took out the watchmen on the local water tower, careful making sure his arrows incapacitated him but didn't kill him. The next two bandits took shelter on the roof of the watering hole, going from rooftop to rooftop. He finally took to the streets and stealthily took out the rest of the gang. Since the gang was small, he had no trouble doing the job by himself. After taking out each bandit, he quickly tied them together with a rope and left them in the middle of the town with a note that said:

 _Do what you want with them. I have done all I can._

The town decided to hold a public execution, something the stranger didn't attend. After ridding the town of the bandits, the mayor decided that he wanted to personally thank the stranger for all that he did. But being nowhere to be found, he instead opted for a day of remembrance and celebration for the day the town was liberated. Three days of celebration began, with a mayor even commissioning a plaque to be laid out for the stranger. Even then, he didn't show up. Tales of the stranger would begin to grow and eventually his legend became mythic. Some say he was a reincarnation of Old Man, The Creator. Others said he was simply a ghost. But, it was all completely false. Yet his legend still persisted in their eyes.

Outside the little town , in an abandoned cabin, the strange boy took to sitting in lotus position in front of a fire, his hands outstretched on his knees, his prayer beads in his right palm. His eyes were closed as he fell into a deep meditation, repeating the mantra quietly to himself;

 _Om-mani-padme-hum….Om-mani-padme-hum…._


	3. Chapter 3

_Middle of Nowhere, Nevada_

 _5:05 a.m._

The traveler woke up early. It was a habit he had learned in the midst of survival. Getting up quick, he pulled his pistol out in front of him, making sure that any strangers were to back off. Turning on his flashlight, he pulled out his map and checked it again. Going over it, he looked over the markings he had made and the path he had created with a red marker. The path detailed his journey through the wasteland starting at Peach Creek, Massachusetts; his home town. It had taken him almost a year to get to where he was now. It would have taken him longer had he not had a motorcycle. Too bad it got stolen in Pennsylvania. It was another 'gift' from his father; it was his old beat up Suzuki 500. He had had it for years and it was in bad shape, but it got him somewhere. After it broke down, he hooked up with a traveling caravan. It was a bunch of hippies and their caravan out selling what passed for marijuana and other psychedelics. It was fun while it lasted; he even got fresh with one of the girls there. But, after they made it to Iowa, he broke off from them. While they were sleeping in the middle of the night, he took a little from their stash and headed out on the open road. Since then, he had smoked it all when he had the time. He was careful not to smoke it too much. If he was high all the time he probably would've never noticed that gang.

He opened the door closest to his head and slid himself out of the truck. He then rolled up his sleeping bag and grabbed his supplies. It was still dark outside, yet the sky was getting grayer every minute. Looking over his map again, he deduced that it would be a ten hour walk, eight if he didn't stop. The thought of walking for hours was exasperating, but being so close to the good life was enough to make him keep going. After eating a can of peaches and choking down some condensed milk, he began the final leg of his journey. With a look on his face that showed great ambition and longing, he loaded his MP5 and started walking.

A few hours into his journey he came across something unusual; another lone soul. He hadn't seen another human being in weeks yet he never noticed it for he was too far into himself and his dreams to care. It was a little boy; alone, lost, scared. He looked about eight years old. It looked like he hadn't had anything to eat for days. For a moment, the traveler looked at the boy with a peculiar intention. He didn't feel any sense of sympathy or remorse for him for all that had been lost and was a detriment in this new world. Instead he had a sense of being led on. He looked around; there was a hill on his left side and a few abandoned cars to his right. It was a perfect place to set a trap. Looking back at the boy, he caught his attention and they locked eyes. The boy's innocent, blue eyes met his and they stayed like that for an entire minute. Until, finally the boy spoke up.

"Please, sir." He said, feebly. "Can you help me?"

He stared at him coldly. "What's your game, kid?"

"Do you have any food? Haven't eaten in days."

The traveler began to back up suspiciously. He knew there was something wrong with this situation.

"Please?! Do you have anything to spare?"

"No, kid."

The boy began to cry. The traveler just pursed his lips in irritation.

"P-please, m-mister. P-please!"

"NO!"

Then out of nowhere, someone shouted,

"NOW!"

With that, something akin to lightning shot through the traveler's arm and he pulled out his Glock and aimed it to his right. As he pulled the trigger, he quickly gained his senses as he watched a bandit fall backwards. He quickly sprinted towards the cars as the sound of gunfire began to start. He started counting the bullets whizzing past and when he found an opening he opened fire. He watched another go down and watched as the little boy scampered in his direction. In a fit of primal rage, he had an instinct to shoot the kid. But a psychotic whooping from behind made him think otherwise. It seemed another psycho was waiting for him behind an SUV and this one was brandishing a chainsaw. Thinking quickly, he rolled out of the way of the oncoming chainsaw and pulled his knife from its leg holster. He quickly pounced on the psycho and proceeded to stab him repeatedly in the neck. The blood shot from his neck and onto his face. It was warm and sticky, but it didn't stop him from fighting.

About another ten minutes went by and the rest of the gang was dispatched. As they all lied on the ground in pools of blood, the traveler checked their pockets. Other than a few cherry bombs and some electrical tape, these bandits had nothing on them. They were probably starving and decided to resort to cannibalism. Oh well, a few psychos were dead to the world and no one would notice them. As the traveler looked around, he saw the kid was nowhere to be seen. He only shrugged his shoulders. He would've been another mouth to feed, another nuisance. After wiping the blood from his face, he looked in the direction he was traveling and continued on his mission. Even though he was still a teenager, the thought of a cold brew stewed in his brain.

After nine hours on the road, he finally approached Las Vegas. He saw that it had a giant wall around it with guards and spotlights. As he looked closer, they didn't look official. He didn't see any flags or badges on any of them. These men were mercenaries, other greedy souls who came here for the luxuries. They were just like him. He grinned and swaggered confidently to the guard at the front gate.

"What's your business here, kid?" the man said, sternly.

"Just a guy trying to make a name for himself." replied the traveler.

"Aren't you a little young to be here?" the man asked.

"Aren't you a little fat to be a guard?"

The man looked at him coldly. The traveler returned the favor.

"You got a name, kid?"

"Eddy. Eddy McGee. And don't you forget it."

The guard took Eddy's name on a clip board. He then pointed behind him.

"Who's your little friend?"

Eddy stared at him with disbelief.

"What the hell are you talking about? I traveled alone!"

"It doesn't look like it, son."

Eddy couldn't believe it. They must be selling some good stuff in there because the guard was surely seeing things. But, as he turned around, he couldn't believe his eyes. It was that little shit that tried to get him killed. His face scrunched up with anger and he felt his hand go to his pistol. But, as he moved, he felt an idea go through his head. Immediately, he fell to his knees and embraced the kid like his little brother.

"Oh, my god! I thought I lost you, little cousin!" He said, through crocodile tears.

He knew the kid was confused. So, he whispered in his ear.

"You want to eat? Follow my lead. Stay out of my way and you won't get killed understand?"

The boy hugged him back, silently agreeing to the conditions. This kid's smart, Eddy thought to himself. He may be useful in the long run. As he got up from his hug, he turned around to face the guard.

"This is my little cousin. We were traveling together and I thought I lost him."

The man had that look of disbelief on him. He got closer to Eddy until they were nearly chest to chest. Eddy began to wonder where this was going.

"If he's you're cousin, you can tell me his name."

Eddy felt a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know this kid's name. He didn't even know he was still alive until now. Before he could another word, however, the kid spoke up.

"I'm Jacob. But, my cousin calls me Scrap."

"Scrap?"

"Yeah, Scrap!" said Eddy. "Because, his favorite place to go was the junkyard when we were kids. He was always tinkering with crap and thinking of new things. That's why I call him scrap."

The man looked like he still didn't believe him, but after a while he gave the order to open the gate. Scrap took Eddy's hand, keeping up the façade that they were related. Immediately, the smell of alcohol and the sound of music hit Eddy like a baseball. He began walking as fast as he can. As he looked around, he saw the attractions and buildings and in the distance, a huge tower stood. It made him remember his ambitions and he wanted it even more. He saw himself up there, smoking a fat cigar with stacks of money on a desk. It was so close he could grasp it. But, he had to start small. He would have to find work with a local gang or something. Maybe be a loan shark. Either way, he knew he was going to get there. Now it was only a matter of time now.

"Look out, Vegas." Eddy said. "Here comes your new Kingpin!"


	4. Chapter 4

_Yellowknife, Canada_

 _3:45 a.m._

 _2 years after disaster_

The stranger woke up in the morning with a smile. If there was one thing his Buddhistic ways taught him was to appreciate every day of his life, for he never knew when his last day would come. He got up from his simple bed made up of only a mattress on the floor and did his morning routine. He postulated toward the wall in front of him as he didn't have any Buddha statues to postulate to. He laid out his sinewy body along the cold floor, showing respect to the Amitahba, Gautama and other Buddhas throughout history. Like others, he didn't believe in one Buddha as anybody had the potential to reach that level. However, he knew becoming Buddha wasn't something he should strive for as a real Buddha didn't reach his status out of ambition. As he got up from postulating, he went to the kitchen and looked through the cabinet. Taking an old camp coffee pot, a half empty water bottle and some instant coffee, he went to the fire place and started a small fire with remnants of the one he made the night before. Twenty minutes later, he put on his fingerless gloves and reached in to take it out. The handle was hot and he felt it through the thick cloth, but it wasn't unbearable. Using an old can as a cup, he slowly drank the piping hot drink as he let his mind wander.

The thoughts that went through his head caused him great pain. He remembered that only two years ago, a disaster had caused a devastation of the planet. It wasn't just one disaster, however. It happened to be a span of disasters over a period of an extra three years. It was the one two years ago that really did it in. A global depression had left the stock market in shambles and left people in the first world without money. Nobody knows exactly how the depression happened, yet it had happened in the wake of a second SARS outbreak. Because of that, hospitals couldn't function and plenty of people unfortunately lost their lives. The few who were lucky got vaccinated but that was caused further resentment from those who couldn't afford it. As a result, the virus quickly spread and the death toll reached a fever pitch. Reporters said they hadn't had a plague this bad since the Black Plague in the 1300s. It even took a few of the traveler's relatives and friends. But, it was after losing his mentor, a man he called Plank, that the traveler decided to leave his home in Peach Creek. That was two years ago, but it still weighed heavily on his mind.

Careful not to brood and lose himself to negative feelings, the traveler quickly got dressed and grabbed his weapons. He woke up early for a reason; he was running out of food. He hoped to catch caribou or some ram, but he would settle for hare if necessary. Grabbing a couple bags to store his catch, he took the back door out and headed to the woods a couple miles north. He breathed the cold air, filling his lungs and exhaling out a white mist thick enough to be smoke. He put on his face mask and zipped up his jacket to face the cold head on. He had gotten used to the Canadian climate, a completely different kind from the one he was used to. He had been used to New England kind of weather, but as said before, circumstances forced him to adapt. As he neared the entrance to the woods, the day began to lighter. He could see without the aid of a light now. As he stepped into the woods, he was careful not to have too heavy of footfalls. He didn't want to scare any game away. He didn't want to ruin his chances for survival.

He quickly found a tree with numerous branches for him to climb. He quickly scaled the tree with ease. He smiled fondly as he remembered how he used to climb trees in his childhood. It was there that he had met Plank. They met when the traveler was seven and he twelve. The traveler had just finished climbing up what he thought was the tallest tree in the woods. To his surprise and disappointment, he had found that Plank had already beaten him to it. The boy looked at him with a sly yet welcoming grin. He saw the upset look in his eyes and immediately began to speak.

"You're late, kid." The boy said. The way he spoke sounded rich and resonating. Even at twelve, his voice was powerful and manly.

"H-how did you…"

The boy put his hand up.

"First, who are you? What's your name?"

"Jonny."

"Well, Jonny." Said the boy. "I'm Plank."

Jonny looked at him in confusion. Who the hell would want to name a kid Plank? Nevertheless, he was still amazed at Plank. Nobody he ever knew had the stones to climb this tree. Well, truthfully he had never known anyone. He was always a loner, even as a child. Jonny was always playing in the woods or in the junkyard, never with the other kids. His parents thought him crazy and looked down upon him for it. It didn't bother him though, at least then. When he played in the woods, he always saw the tree. He had conquered other trees in the woods, but never this one. He was too scared. It was too high, so high in fact that he could see the neighboring town of Lemon Brook from there. But, when he finally gathered the courage to climb it, he was dashed from his place as the first up the tree. But as he became familiar with Plank, his anger and humiliation soon faded away. He was in the wake of a new friend, someone he could trust.

He had gotten so enamored with Plank that accidentally slipped off of the branch he was standing on. Before he actually fall though his new friend quickly caught him by the arm. Jonny's senses were still shot with fear and adrenaline that he didn't even notice until Plank called his name.

"You okay there, kid?" Plank asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Jonny responded.

Plank grinned. He pulled Jonny up to his perch and sat him on his old spot. He climbed over the neighboring branch with monkey like agility. Jonny studied and attempted to try that trick, but Plank stopped him. With childish anguish, he begged for Plank to teach him how to do that. Kindly yet sternly, Plank told him that he would learn in time. For now, they would practice other things. They climbed down the tree together, two kids with a love for nature and its gifts. For the next few hours, Plank gave him instructions on how to climb properly and talked to him philosophically. Even though his little seven year old mind couldn't understand philosophy or spirituality, he was still enamored by his new friend. Plank also told him his life story; he was born and raised in Lemon Brook as the son of two former hippies who had introduced him to spirituality and nature at a young age. They wanted their son to think for himself and to accept the beautiful things nature had to offer. Plank then offered to teach Jonny everything he knew, which he accepted. And with that, a deep and beautiful friendship began to blossom.

After hunting a couple of hours, Jonny did manage to catch a caribou. He thanked it and took everything it had to offer; the skin, meat, bones. He nearly filled all of his bags with all the meat he would dry and he folded up the skin to sell at market when he went to town. When he checked some extra traps he laid out, he had only one or two hares, but he was content. He had enough for a week or two and it was heavy getting back. As he got to his cabin, the sun was out and the sky was blue. He breathed in the fresh Canadian air as he thanked the Buddhas for a bountiful hunt. Hopefully it'll be the same next time.


	5. Chapter 5

_Las Vegas, Nevada_

 _10:30 p.m._

The sight of Las Vegas nearly made Eddy cry with excitement. It looked exactly like he dreamt it would; it was a little rusty and dingy after the disaster and it did show a few signs of being affected by it, but it was still the same old Las Vegas that he wondered about. However, thanks to the little spit fuck Scrap, his fantasy was a little compromised. But, he eventually returned to a state of nirvana as he took in the sights. He had heard about the famous casinos and bars and since the disaster, they didn't give a shit anymore if he was of age or not. As long as someone was willing to pay good money for their product, they didn't care who they served.

But, Eddy didn't get to experience any of that yet. Instead, he booked a room for him and the kid at a seedy motel and took a long nap. When he woke up, he had slept the whole afternoon away and Scrap was beside him. Disgusted, he tore himself away from the boy and sat up in bed. Yeah, it was a buzzkill that he had slept the day away because he was so excited but he made himself feel better by telling himself that Vegas was better experienced at night. He quickly put on his jacket and gloves and fixed his hair and straightened his hat. Then he hastened into the night without leaving a note for the kid. He could take care of himself, he thought. That kid's been in the wasteland for a while now. No need to drag him around with me.

The first place he went to was a casino called Jack's. The place was crowded, but not so crowded that he couldn't find a seat. Every time he turned around, he saw the bums and winos that had traveled there try their luck at the slots and blackjack tables. He also took note of the lovely ladies who went around and offered drinks and cigarettes, to which Eddy took to wholeheartedly. He took note of the little look-a-like of Marilyn Monroe as she passed him a wink; probably because he (somehow) looked the cleanest out of all the patrons. In return, he gave her a slight grin and the un-dressing look. Just for him, she swung her hips side to side and he loved it. He wished to go over there and flirt and chat, but he had a different agenda. He was here to make a name for himself and grasp at the title of kingpin. But, to do that he needed to find employment. A man without money might as well be another speck of dust in the wind.

He took a seat at the nearest bar and ordered what passed for whiskey. The bartender, a man about fifty, looked at him strangely.

"Aren't you a little young to be drinking, boy?" he asked.

"Aren't you a little ugly to be married?" Eddy responded, taking note of the wedding band on his ring finger.

Giving Eddy a little smirk at the witty comeback, the bartender served him his drink. Eddy slowly drank the liquid; since the disaster, Eddy hadn't had a drop of alcohol and his body forgot what it felt like to drink alcohol. The way it tasted, it tasted better than the rotgut he drank back at home. It relaxed him and he felt comfortable by himself after a while. Ordering another round, the bartender decided to make a little conversation.

"What brings you here, son?"

"I'm here for work."

"The kind where you push packages across the country or slave all day in the coal mines? Either makes good pay."

Eddy looked at him with a serious face.

"Neither."

The bartender quickly caught on. He knew Eddy's type; the kind of young fellow who wants to make a name for himself through organized crime. He knew it well as he used to push it back in his day. As he looked at Eddy a little more, he knew there was some potential in him. The way he carried himself gave him an impression that he had some useful tricks up his sleeve. Deciding to help this kid out, he leaned in closer and told him what he knew.

"You want to make some money, kid?" he asked.

Eddy nodded, interested. The bartender pointed across the hall to a group of people minding the slot machines. He specifically pointed out a man wearing a slicker suit than the rest. He looked well groomed, more so than his lackeys. His hair was slicked back and he was chewing a cigar. He was a typical mobster, yet he looked a little younger than the stereotypical fat don.

"That guy's Dean Calabro. He's the caporegime of the mob here. His boss is his old man, Mr. Calabro."

Eddy looked at him, suspiciously.

"What are you trying to sell here, old man?"

"I ain't selling anything you don't want. Hook up with him and he'll get you places."

"How do I know you're not screwing with me?"

The bartender with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, sure of what he was talking about.

"If I was screwing with you, would I be telling you this?"

Touché, Eddy thought. He turned around again to look at the group, who have migrated over to the blackjack table. Eddy looked back at the bartender and gave him a look of consideration before paying for his drink with the old money that he had collected. Though he was thankful for the information, he didn't bother to tip the man. That money could go to better things; things that he couldn't think of at the moment. Without a hint of fear in him, Eddy slowly made his way to the blackjack table.

The first thing that Eddy noticed about the man was his stench; he smelled of cheap cologne and crappy cigars. It gave him a sense of Déjà vu; that was what the neighborhood kids used to make fun of him for. Unlike this guy, however, Eddy made sure he showered. His hair was slicked back with so much grease that it probably would be stuck like that for the rest of his life. Disgusting, Eddy thought. He had a fat gut from too much alcohol and cannoli, part of his stereotypical mobster look. His cheeks were also fat, but from what the bartender told him he wasn't that old. But, with all this guy's flaws, he had the dough to back himself up. Though he knew that, eventually, the dough would be his Eddy had to keep himself together. As of now, he was another grunt. Going up to the blackjack table, he tried to get the man's attention.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Calabro?" he asked.

One of his goons turned around.

"Who wants to know?" he asked, thuggishly.

"Someone who's looking for a little extra, that's who."

The thug laughed. It was an annoying, wheezing, smoker's laugh that made Eddy sneer in disgust.

"Ya wanna work?" he said. "There's a corner with ya name on it, kid."

Eddy began to get more annoyed. This guy was just a lackey, a lapdog. He was no better than any of the other screw ups in this place. Without thinking, Eddy grabbed the man by the collar and shoved his face in the table, wrenching his arm back behind him. Reflexively, the rest of the mobster's posse pulled out their guns and pointed them at him. Before they could pull the trigger, though, the mobster put his hand up and signaled them to calm down. As Eddy still wrenched the man's arm up higher and higher, the mobster finally spoke.

"So ya wanna work for me, huh?" he asked.

Without letting go, Eddy looked at him and nodded.

"Then, I may have somethin' for ya, kid."

The words couldn't have been any clearer than that. Without thinking, Eddy let go of the man and stood at full attention. The other man wandered off, annoyed and frustrated, to the bar to get a drink. As he sat down, the bartender began to laugh. He saw everything that went on over there and it amused the hell out of him to see a punk like him get his comeuppance. Calabro leaned in closer, his chair cracking, as he spoke to Eddy about a job.

"You've already showed me that you take no shit, kid. But, you ain't part of my crew yet. We need to make sure we can trust you."

The mobster then spoke of the job implied; there was a package that needed to be sent to a certain someone. While they played the stereotype game again, Calabro told him that if he got this little job done, he would be considered for a spot in the crew. The thought of only being considered put a little dent in Eddy's plan, but it still gave him a good shot of joining this crew. Accepting his offer, Eddy stuck his hand out to take the address. One of the thugs put the piece of paper in his hand. Eddy opened it up to look at and, much to his chagrin, discovered it was all greasy and nearly ineligible. He glowered at the man, who didn't bother to pay any attention. He then realized that they had had enough of him and began his way to the casino exit.

On the outside, he looked at the greasy paper again. He, fortunately, was able to make out the instructions; he was to find a dumpster behind the Atlantis Motel, there he will find the package. He will then deliver it to 250 52nd Street and the man will give you the cash. After taking the cash, Eddy was to report back to the casino. Eddy shrugged; a little delivery job wasn't a bad start to his career. He needed them to trust him if he ever wanted to get somewhere. Thinking, he folded the paper and put it in his pocket and went back to the motel to grab his weapon. When he got there, he noticed Scrap sleeping on the couch. The boy was curled up in a fetal position; his eyes closed and face at ease. Eddy tried as he might not to feel anything for the boy, remembering him as another mouth to feed. As he made his way to the bedroom, he grabbed his Glock off the night stand. As he walked out and shut the door behind him, he checked his magazine and cocked it.

Butterflies began to fly around in his stomach. He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet like a boxer as he checked the address again. He grinned widely; this was his first real job as an enforcer for the mob. As he made his way to the address, he began fantasizing about the future ahead of him. As he thought harder and deeper, he thought he could feel the wallet in his pocket get heavier.


	6. Chapter 6

_Yellowknife, Canada_

 _7:35 a.m._

The sky was beginning to clear and grow a bright blue as Jonny meditated in peace. He opened his hands and his eyes to look out the window and slightly shut them again as the sun's rays pierced his eyes. He got up from lotus position and proceeded to do seventy pushups, all in a row. After that and a few crunches, he got up from his position on the floor and proceeded to get dressed. He went outside to fetch his pants, socks and boots which he had hung up to dry the other night. The shirt was still a little damp so he decided to leave it out for another few minutes. He wouldn't be going to town or hunting today anyway, so he had time to relax.

He went to the kitchen to make himself breakfast. He pulled out a package of military rations and some strips of deer meat from the freezer _. I really lucked out on finding this place_ , he thought. _It has everything I could ever need._ The only problem he faced was to lock the doors at night he had to put something heavy in front of them. And even then, it was only a slight inconvenience. He cherished the idea of living in this place and thanked the Buddhas for guiding him here. But, in the back of his mind, something didn't seem right. As he feasted on his horribly bland breakfast, he allowed his mind to wander. His thoughts seem to go back to the time of his childhood, where he met Plank.

After being introduced to each other, he began to see Plank on a regular basis. Though he didn't go to school (as Plank was "homeschooled"), Jonny always saw him afterwards. Then, they would head off into the woods to climb trees and it was then Jonny got his first taste of spiritualism. Plank taught him that the woods and everything inside it had a voice and to listen when it calls. At first, Jonny thought it was just some weird, pseudo-spiritual psycho-babble. But, when he actually listened, he heard harmonies that he had never heard before. It fascinated him to no end and every day he would listen and try to follow what the woods had for him.

It was on that particular day when Plank showed Jonny his parents. He had already known they were hippies, but Plank introduced him he was again surprised. They weren't just hippies, they were self-proclaimed "People of the Spirit". They had dabbled in different things, from paganism to Mohawk shamanism (they also happened to be of Mohawk ancestry), they tried everything; all of it to try to get in touch with themselves. Jonny found it very intimidating and a little sketchy, yet he trusted Plank enough to put up with them. He even found out that they were nice people, as they offered to feed him in celebration of Plank gaining a new friend. But he refused, stating that he had to go home anyway. As he left, he waved goodbye to his friend and bounded through the trees home. When he got there, he found the whole neighborhood was alive again; the Eds were in the back alley planning a scheme, Kevin was fixing his new bike, Nazz was lounging, Sarah and Jimmy were playing with dolls and Rolf was busy tending to his farm. They all didn't seem to mind much when he was gone, like he had an impact on him anyway. But, he still felt outside of them. Sometimes he wished he had a companion in one of them and even tried for a while, but eventually he realized that it was all in vain. He would never be a part of them, so he had to accept himself and Plank as contentment.

After a few years of hanging out with Plank in the woods, Jonny told him that he wanted to try getting in part with his spirit. Plank agreed to show him, but it was Jonny who had to find his way to it. After showing him a few things he had learned from his parents, Plank then asked to make a decision. Though he tried hard to grasp it, Jonny still couldn't accept his idea. Plank then showed him Buddhism and even took him to a Buddhist convent in downtown Peach Creek. It was then that Jonny had found his center. Every day, after hanging out with Plank, he would straight downtown and join in the activities they had planned. Jonny's parents didn't really mind (they weren't really his parents, they were his aunt and uncle), as they found their boy climbing miraculously out of his shell appeasing. They even paid for his membership until Jonny found money through odd jobs. Life had turned out to be really good for the wanderer.

However, there was a side to Jonny that not a lot of people saw. In his heart, he had held a lot of anger. It didn't just come from being ostracized from his peers, but from his home. His real parents had abandoned him when he was a small child so his paternal aunt and uncle decided to step in and raise him. They didn't really understand why they would leave their boy behind, but that they did and never came back. Nobody knew where they were; they didn't even know if they were alive or dead, that they just disappeared off the face of the earth. They had tried to get the police to find them, only to come up empty handed. It left Jonny with a lot of questions; _why did they leave? Why didn't they take me with him? Why didn't they say goodbye?_ It filled Jonny with sadness and rage, so to combat that Plank had asked his parents to guide him. They had taught him to use the Bo staff and even got Jonny's aunt and uncle to help. Jonny's uncle taught him to use a bow and arrow and his aunt taught him to paint. As Jonny reflected on this, he thought warmly of them all. He was glad that he had so many mentors through his life and thanked them in his mind. But, it was then he felt a giant knot in his throat. He swallowed it hard as another thought came to his head.

He thought back to the day where it all ended. A year prior, earthquakes had rattled the entire world, bringing devastation to many major cities. With that, stocks crashed and another global depression was set upon them. To make matters worse, since many hospitals had shut down due to insufficient funding, a new strand of SARS virus had made a global pandemic. Jonny was lucky enough to be naturally immune, but that couldn't be said about the others. His aunt and uncle couldn't get their immune shots, since by then all immunizations had run out. They, along with Plank's parents, had withered and succumbed to the virus. That was the only time he had ever seen Plank cry.

The rest of the cul-de-sac was in disarray; Jimmy and Sarah had fallen victim to the virus, Double D and Kevin were beaten to death in a fit of mass hysteria for being immunized early, Eddy left the cul-de-sac before things truly fell apart, Nazz disappeared without a trace and Rolf shut himself in his basement and never came out. It had also become taken over by task force set up by the FBI and was blocked off from the rest of the world. Jonny would often sneak out every other night to see Plank, his only link to the outside world but eventually, Plank himself began to get sick. As he got weaker and weaker, Jonny tried to be there for him. Nothing could keep him from seeing his mentor. But, eventually he was discovered and was locked in quarantine for two whole weeks. Finally, after his sentence was over, he tried one more time to see him but discovered he was too late. All that was there at Plank's home was a walking stick and a note that said "Follow your path". The rest was burnt to the ground.

For the first time in Jonny's life, he truly felt alone. It felt different from the kind of loneliness he had felt days before. He felt like a giant weight had fallen on his shoulders; that his whole world had crumbled. In rage, he shouted toward the heavens, taking his frustrations out on the Buddhas he cursed and swore at them for taking not only his family, but the only friend he had had in the world. He foamed, raved, kicked the dirt around him, but no one was there. He ran home, crying piteously, not caring if he had gotten caught. He went to his room and cried to himself to sleep, mourning deeply.

For a while, he didn't come out of his room. He only sat up in bed every day and mourned. He had let his beard and hair grow out and lost a lot of weight in a span of weeks. A few times he tried to get out of the room, but the pain was too unbearable to face the outside world. However, one day, he dared to dream. In the dream, he saw a world on fire. He stood outside against a dark sky, looking around at nothing. He saw he was standing on hot coals, but they didn't burn. After what seemed like an eternity of looking at nothing but fire, he saw two figures standing in the distance. They came closer and closer until Jonny realized that one of them was Plank. He tried to go out and greet his friend but found he couldn't move. He tried to scream but couldn't speak. All he could do was listen. The person standing next to Plank turned out to be a Buddha, specifically Gautama. He spoke something to him, yet Jonny couldn't make out any words. The only thing he knew was that he understood. After Gautama finished his statement, Plank moved toward Jonny and put his hand on his shoulder. Though he couldn't understand him either, Jonny knew he was telling him he would seem him again one day. The two of them walked away and Jonny again tried to go after him. But, he was left with the same results. He watched them walk in the distance; the flames growing dimmer as they left.

When Jonny returned to consciousness, he knew what he had to do. He went to the bathroom and shaved all of his hair, leaving him bald and beardless. He began to eat regularly again and practiced his staff in the living room and worked out in the basement. After a month or so of intense training, he decided then it was time to leave. Taking only a few things with him, his staff and the clothes on his back, he quietly escaped over the wall he had scaled so many times and took off into the forest. With nowhere to go accept where the wind blew, Jonny started his journey. Though he wasn't really sure of what he had to accomplish, he knew that he will find what he was looking for. Eventually, he made a bow and a few arrows out of things he found and he perfected his hunting skills. After a few years traveling alone, he eventually found his way to Yellowknife, where found his refuge.

After coming out of his state, he went out back to find the shirt dry. He put it on and got ready to go. As he made his trek towards New Ontario, he started thinking again. He had been in this place for a while, protecting it. Now, he believed his time here was over. It was time he moved to another place, to search for his unknown purpose. But, to do that, he'd need supplies. Hopefully some deer meat and wild beets can fix that.


	7. Chapter 7

_Las Vegas, Nevada_

 _9:30 a.m._

Eddy woke up early; earlier than most. In fact, he had actually been awake for three hours. He sat by himself in a chair in the corner of the motel room, wearing nothing except his boxers, sipping some coffee he had made an hour ago. It was disgusting; black with no cream or sugar. It was hard to come by that stuff since the disaster, so he had to make the best of the situation. With a distant look he sat there, thinking about the past few weeks that went by. The first assignment he had taken up with the Calabro family ended with him earning five hundred dollars and knowledge about what was in the package and the intended recipient. Apparently, the man had been a former associate with the Calabro family and had tried to sell them out for a quick buck to a rival mob. So, as a final warning, they sent him the head of another former associate and a note that said he was next if he didn't stop his funny business. It was then that Eddy was glad that he didn't look inside the box. That kind of message sending was brutal, even for him. Still, it earned him a few bucks and a place in Calabro's gang.

That was a few weeks ago. The few bucks that he made he split in half and used the half he kept at the blackjack which he left with only fifteen. _Damned game was rigged_ , he thought. _Bastards always go after newcomers_. But, it wouldn't matter in a while. In a few hours he was going to meet with the don again. He had one of his associates come tell him the night before that he had had an important assignment for him and he was expected at the club again at six o' clock. Eddy wished he could've slept in so that the wait wouldn't be as long. But, lately he had been getting some weird dreams lately. He never really could remember what they were about, but he always woke up with a feeling of guilt which was strange since Eddy never really cared enough to feel guilty. Though sometimes reflected on the things he had done with some sadness, he always got back to thinking about his goals and what he wanted to achieve. It worked for him and kept him going. Besides, all he ever had was goals.

Scrap was gone. He found him opening the door and leaving when he woke up. The little twerp was actually of some use. A few days ago, he had brought home some stolen supplies and ammunition, as well as a couple of nudie magazines. Being eight years old, he had no real concept of sex and pornography (a rarity in this world nowadays) and gave them to Eddy. The rest of the things he stole he kept in a backpack near the bed. They never talked about it, but Eddy knew that he didn't like where they lived. What seemed like Paradise to him was Hell to Scrap. He'd rather be out in the world making it on his own. It was intimidating that an eight year old would be capable of such thoughts. But, everybody had to grow up fast in the wasteland. Some took longer, others took to it quickly. It made Eddy and Scrap alike in a way, their childhoods being taken away in a flash. However, Eddy got to linger a little bit. Scrap couldn't grasp the concept anymore.

In the few weeks since they met, Eddy got to know Scrap a little. What memories he could make were of his parents. He remembered them as nice people and from what he could gather they had a lot of money. He remembered his house being big; not as big as a Tudor mansion but bigger than most others. He remembered his father used to wear what he called a 'Mister' suit and his mother wore something similar, albeit more feminine and lady-like. His father had a mustache and his mother had blonde hair. But he remembered that a few times, he overheard his parents saying he was 'adopted'. From both a sense of apathy and a slightly loose grasp on English, he didn't really care. He didn't have any form of hopelessness or anger from the revelation. Besides, when the disaster hit, he had run away. He didn't really reveal why he did, but there was really nothing he could do about it now. They were probably dead by now and he had made it fine out on his own.

Time passed slowly. The sun slowly drifted across the sky. Eddy thought of going somewhere but couldn't really decide where to go. He didn't really want to run into Scrap again nor could he think of any place to go. As he thought deeply, he remembered the marijuana he stashed. Looking through his backpack, he found a gram and rolled into a nice and tight joint. However, he couldn't find the lighter. Instead, he used the oven burner and it began to burn slowly. As he inhaled the smoke and blew it out, he coughed hard. It had been a while since he used this stuff in…maybe a month or so? Little by little he began to get acclimated to it and slowly the room colors began to brighten, his sense of time retarded and a warm feeling in the back of his head slowly drifted to different parts of his body.

Eddy's body began to relax and he slumped back into his chair. He felt a smile grow on his face. The muscles in his face as he grinned felt heavy and weighed down. His mind began to wander as thought about things that made him laugh. He remembered when he threw a water balloon straight into the teacher's room one day after middle school in the fall and it hit her. He knew it hit her because he heard a shocked scream as he ran away. It made him giggle that stoner's giggle and eventually it evolved into a howl. The thought made him laugh so hard he thought he would never catch his breath. Eventually, it passed and he finally gained it back. Though, the grin didn't leave.

A few hours later, the high passed. Eddy looked around the room. The lights had gotten brighter and Scrap hadn't returned. He then looked out the window. The sun was going down and it was near time to meet with the don. Eddy pulled on his clothes, his hat and gloves and walked out. He locked the door behind him and went towards the club. Little did he know, he would be in for a big surprise.


	8. Chapter 8

_Somewhere in Alberta, Canada_

 _4:35 p.m._

The people of New Ontario were most generous to Jonny. In thanks for his service in protecting the thriving, little town they offered him a used Jeep with some gas and supplies for his trip. Some offered to join him but he refused, stating that he had to do complete this journey on his own. When asked where he was going to go, he couldn't answer. While he knew his time there was spent, he had no idea where he was going to go next. _Wherever the wind blows_ , he thought to himself. As he started towards the South in his little Jeep, he looked toward the rising sun and smiled. A new step in his journey was ahead.

For a whole day, he didn't stop driving until he got to Alberta, Canada. As he drove, he began to contemplate what he was going to do next. As he thought deeper and deeper, he began thinking about his old friends; the ones he had left behind in Peach Creek who were all surely dead by now. He still remembered Double D and Kevin being beaten to death for their immunizations. He remembered it vividly, for they had died on his front lawn. He remembered that afterwards the biggest one of them all, Ed, found his friend's corpse and, without a word spoken or a tear shed, carried it away. Before Jonny himself left the cul-de-sac, he went to check on him and found him dead, locked in his room and hunched over Double D's body, cradling it in his arms. The trauma of his sister and best friend dying and Eddy abandoning him months before must've finally taken its toll and he locked himself in his room with only him and his dead friend. It was a terrible sight that would haunt Jonny forever.

As he thought more about the Ed boys, he came to a realization. Eddy had left the cul-de-sac months before hell broke loose. Knowing Eddy and how resourceful and cunning he was, there was a slight chance that he made it out alive. The idea of someone he knew still being alive after all this was an elating feeling. After being out there by himself with no one, it was fantastic that someone from his old life was still out there. After thinking about him, Jonny began to think about where he would be going. Since Eddy always dreamed of being a millionaire and was constantly conning Jonny and the other kids out of their money, he knew that there was one place that Eddy would go that made perfect sense; The City of Lights, Las Vegas, Nevada. Checking his map, Jonny created a route straight to Las Vegas. The next step in his journey was finally laid out for him.

Around four o' clock, Jonny stopped on top of a hill and made camp. He practiced his katas with his Bo staff and took inventory. After checking his supplies, he made himself comfortable on the ground, lighting a fire and pulling out a book to read. The book was a gift from Plank; entitled _Herman Melville's Moby-Dick_. Though Plank had given the book to Jonny years ago, it was recently that he had actually started it. He was only about an eighth of the book in, mostly because he never found time in between his practices and just surviving, though he still loved to read it when he had the chance.

A half an hour into the book, Jonny was startled by a loud noise. Staff in hand, he immediately pulled up his guard and crept slowly towards the source of the sound. The rustling near the trees, for any unexperienced person, could have been some sort of big animal. But Jonny knew better. The rustling of an animal wouldn't have been as quiet. Jonny said nothing as he moved closer and closer into the forest. Before he entered into the brush, he doubled back to check on his supplies. The Jeep and his stuff remained untouched. With a hint of caution, Jonny hurried into the woods.

He followed the sound deeper and deeper into the woods until he found himself in a clearing. As he circled round and round, trying to look for any movement, he realized his mistake. Before he could make his escape, a grungy looking, almost rabid, man came at him through the brush. He tried to go at him with his bare hands, but Jonny easily evaded him and put him in his place. As he lay on the ground, unconscious, two more showed up out of the brush. One by one, more crept out of the woods, dressed in a mish-mash of Celtic and Japanese clothing, until eventually eight surrounded him. Keeping his wits about him, Jonny waited patiently for the fight to begin.

With a loud 'NOW!' three of the bandits came after him. Jonny easily evaded them and took one out with a crushing blow to the skull. He jabbed his staff into another one's eye socket, making writhe away in pain. The third one tried to lunge at him like an animal, but he countered that and sent him flying into a tree. Three more came in their place. Jonny began to feel his heart beat faster, the sweat trickled down his brow and his breathing became faster. He knew he was going to run out of energy soon. As a result, he turned to dirty tactics. He jabbed one in the groin and finished the job with a right hook. The next one he used his staff to push them forward into the trees, making them smash their heads on trunks. The last one left, a quivering coward, stood there and shivered as Jonny made his way closer. Looking at this one, he knew that there was a different aura about him. It made him different than the others. But, Jonny couldn't take a risk. As much as he wanted to talk to this fellow, he fought against his peaceful nature and decided to take him out. Before he could finish him, Jonny looked at him with a forgiving, peaceful look.

"Find your way." He said and, with a swing of his staff, knocked him out cold.

Jonny raced back to his Jeep, huffing and puffing as he went. Checking his supplies, he found that, surprisingly, all of things were still there. A relieved smile crept on his face; they must've wanted him first so they could get to his supplies _. Not very smart_ , he thought to himself. Wiping the sweat off of his brow, he cleaned off his staff with a rag and decided to leave. However, he realized that he may be low on gas. He couldn't get to Eddy without a car. Taking a deep breath to get air into his lungs, Jonny circled around the Jeep's gas tank to fill up.

However, as soon as he turned a corner a rock hard fist crashed into his face, rendering him unconscious. Standing over him; a mysterious man dressed in samurai armor, sporting a samurai's bun and a beard. On his hip; two swords, a katana and a wakizashi. Before throwing Jonny into the back seat, the man smirked. As he drove away with the young monk a low, victorious laugh rang through the valley.


	9. Chapter 9

_Outside of Las Vegas, Nevada_

 _12:30 p.m._

Eddy was lost in his thoughts as he looked out the window of an old, beat up 1959 Cadillac. He rested his chin in his hand as he watched the Mojave Desert speed by them. His mind wandered into the familiar territory in which his dreams of success and riches flourished. He thought about the sounds of coins clinking together and the idea of the sky pouring down thin, green bills, all for the taking. From time to time, he thought of other people like Scrap and that pretty girl he left behind all those months ago. However, usually they turned into the giant statues made of money and he was once again back into his ambitious ways.

Besides him, the Cadillac was filled to the brim with other mobsters. In the middle sat the punk whom Eddy wrenched the arm of, named Vinny. Next to him, on the other passenger's side, was Carl. He got to know these fellows once they initiated him as a made-man; one of the first non-Italian members to become one since the disaster. As time went on Vinny and Eddy eventually began to get along, forgetting past altercations and settling on beating each other in poker games. Although Eddy still kept him at arm's length, he knew that he would be useful in the long run. If he was to make a name for himself, he'd have to make use of men like him. But the guy was a slob. Throughout the entire two hour trip, the guy was chugging sodas and wolfing down cigar smoke like a train. It was disgusting; so much so that even the don hated him.

"Nervous, kid?" said Vinny, slapping Eddy on the knee.

Eddy was silent, still lost in his thoughts. Vinny grinned.

"Sure you is, kid. Sure…urp...you is."

Eddy's faced scrunched like it was trying to collapse into itself as Vinny let out that loud burp. At that second he had the urge to roll the windows down. But eventually, his senses calmed and he returned to himself. He went back to his original thought of being surrounded by wealth, with no one but himself to enjoy it. However, that thought would again not last long.

With a big lurch, the old Cadillac came to a halt. When Eddy came to his senses, he found they had stopped in the middle of the desert. They all exited the car like bees from a nest and Eddy found himself the last one out. As he got of the car and began walking, he saw in front of him the people they were meeting. From what the Don told him earlier, they were going to meet with someone on the outside. They called themselves the Wendigoes; their base of operations was a large prison south of where they were. Apparently, they had one of the Don's goons held hostage. Two days ago they had sent a messenger telling them that if they ever wanted to see their soldier again, they would have to show up today with supplies and food. However, talk from others suggested that the Don had other plans in mind.

In the middle of the wasteland, Eddy could see the gang they were dealing with. The name 'Wendigo' was an appropriate term; these guys were painted white and wore nothing but loin cloths and jewelry from what Eddy could assume were made from human bones. They were also gaunt and skinny, like they hadn't eaten in weeks. Their weapons were crude; scavenged harvesting tools and some had blood on their hands like they were their only weapons. Some even had blood dripping from their mouths, like they had gone through a feeding or something. Though it did creep out Eddy a bit, he had seen too much between here and Peach Creek to cower away now.

When the Don stepped out in front of the leader of the Wendigoes, the rest of the group split to let two of their companions drag the captured mobster out into the open. They had done quite a number on him; his head was covered in a bloodied cloth bag, his suit was ripped to shreds and some of his fingers were missing. Eddy quickly blocked out the thought of what they did to this poor guy. It wasn't the time to grow a conscience. As they threw the man down onto the ground near the Don's feet, the man could only whimper and curl into a ball. The trauma was just too much for the bastard.

The Don, however, was not disturbed.

"Look," he said. "I didn't come out here for him. You can do anything to the guy and I won't bat a single glance."

The Wendigoes were stunned. They looked at each other confused as what had been said. Their leader looked intently into the Don's eyes and flashed his teeth with a stirring hiss. The Don only raised an eyebrow.

"Certainly, you didn't come out here to watch us feed, meat-sack?" hissed the Leader.

"Go ahead and eat, you pale fuck. It won't creep me in the slightest."

On that note, some of the Wendigoes lurched forward to eat with a startling screech. Try as he might, Eddy failed in keeping himself from flinching. Before they could take a bite of him, the Leader put up a hand to stop them. On a dime, they stopped and got back in formation.

"I thought you mob types were all about family." The Leader said.

"Well, he ain't my family."

" _Hiss_ …..there is an aura about you, meat-sack. You want to negotiate."

"Great. What now, you gon' read my palm for my fortune?"

With that, the Leader quickly got into the Don's face and roared. When realizing that that wasn't going to work, he took a step back and folded his arms across his chest. Now it was time to negotiate.

"What do you want, meat-sack?" the Leader asked.

The Don chuckled. Now it was getting to the good part.

"I hear you guys roam these places out here. Heard 'bout our guy's work in Death Valley. That's some real impressive stuff you've got going on."

The Leader smirked a little at the compliment.

"Anyhow, I got a proposition: I wanna expand myself beyond Vegas. To do that, I gotta send a message. So here's what I got for ya. If you work for me, clearing other gangs out there, and I'll make sure you don't ever go hungry again."

The Wendigoes looked at each other in excitement. They licked their lips and growled like animals save for the Leader who stood like a rock, thinking. Eddy looked toward Vinny, who gave him a wink. After a minute or so of stirring, the Leader finally spoke.

"And if we refuse?"

With another beat of silence, the Don spoke again.

"Then I'll have the new kid tear you and your crew a new one."

Eddy felt his heart beat drop. With all eyes on him, Eddy did his best to try to keep his composure. He put his hands in front of him and locked them. He matched his gaze with the Leader, knitting his eyebrows to show he meant business. It was funny to him that he was getting nervous; he saw too much out there to get scared. But, this was the first time he had ever come into contact with them. At least he thought so.

Finally, after a few tweaks to the negotiation, the Wendigoes and the Don came to an agreement. Without shaking hands, the two agreed that the Don will bring recruits/fresh meat and access to different parts of the city in exchange for destroying the different gangs that occupy the territory. In a flash, the Wendigoes were gone. When they were gone, the Don pulled a gun and shot the former prisoner in the head, putting him out of his misery. They all piled into their cars and headed for home, with Eddy leaving in a separate car. For once, Eddy was by himself. As he got comfortable, he thought what he had just gone through. Staring down the Leader was a terrifying experience, and he had killed so many people in the past. It made him wonder why he was getting scared. Maybe that kid was softening him up. If he were to be one of the best out here, he couldn't have a conscience.

Around five o' clock, Eddy returned home. He trudged up the motel stairs with heavy feet, and his eyes were baggy. He had a long day and was looking forward to getting home to take a long nap. He turned the corner and got out his key and turned the lock. As he opened the door, something peculiar caught his eye. Something or someone was sitting in his chair. A girl, no doubt Eddy's age, stood up with wide green eyes.

"Eddy?" she said. "Is it really you?"


	10. Chapter 10

_Undisclosed Location_

 _Time unknown_

His head felt a mile wide, like it wasn't big enough already. His vision was blurred and fleeting. Every so often he could hear himself moaning softly. His senses slowly came to him, first noticing from the texture of the floor that he was without a shirt. His vision came and he looked about seeing that the décor was of Japanese origin. He could smell the incense and saw the candles, everywhere. Looking around the room, he noticed that it went further than just the décor. The whole room had paper-like wall dividers, the floors were made of straw-like material. It reminded him of old Japanese mansions or convents where warriors trained and slept. This was the home of a samurai.

Slowly, Jonny pulled himself up from the floor. He looked around for his staff but couldn't find it. He couldn't find any of his supplies in this room, which he assumed that they stole and locked away in some room. He then noticed that aside from his shirt, his shoes were missing and the only thing he was wearing was his pants. He sighed a heavy sigh, a little disappointed in himself that he was caught off guard but he forgave himself. How could he have known that there was someone else out there after that exhausting fight? He opened the divider a bit to see the outside, which was nothing but an empty hall. Keeping his wits about him, he slowly exited the room and stepped out into the hall. Quietly, he ventured out to understand his disposition.

As he walked, he felt a sense that someone was watching him. He couldn't really pick up where it was coming from, but he knew that someone was there. From his training and experience, he made sure to not let on that he knew. Instead, he played the fool and acted like he couldn't tell. Slowly, he made his way through the maze-like structure of the house with the shadow still on his trail. He began to notice that the more he walked the more he could smell the outside air. He followed the sense until it led him straight to the middle of the building, a garden. The sky was a dark blue and some of the stars were still out; it must've been early in the morning when he woke up. He walked through the garden and on top of a bridge, where he stood like a statue. His composure strong and his senses now fully restored, he waited for the shadow to strike.

Quickly, the shadow leaped upon him from behind but he quickly threw him over his shoulder. With the loud thud the shadow fell onto the bridge, revealing itself to be a ninja. In a flash, the ninja tried to strike but Jonny quickly evaded him. He tried to return with a kick, but the ninja blocked it. They both traded blows, each trying to outdo the other to no avail. Finally, the ninja decided to retreat. He bounded over the water and up onto the roof of the building. Jonny knew better than to pursue as it would only cause more trouble for him than for his opponent. Sprinting across the garden, he went back into the building to find his equipment.

After a few minutes of running, he found himself lost again. The maze seemed to be endless and he thought he found himself at the same spot a few times over and over again. As he was just about to give up, however, he spotted a divider and quickly stole into the room. As he turned around to inspect where he was, he found himself in a weapons room. Truly, a samurai lived here. On a rack sat a collection of katana from shortest to longest. Around it were flowers and above the rack was a picture. In it was a family; a man, a woman and a young child. Whoever lived here must have been a family man. The more he thought about him, the more confused he got.

As he let his eyes drift away, he noticed his staff standing in the corner of the room. Try as he might to get, however, he was stopped again by a shuriken. Turing around, he saw the ninja again. The ninja, with all of his strength, jumped into the air as high as he could and came down with a flying kick. Jonny felt the heel of his foot crash into his face and felt himself lift off the ground. With a loud bang, he crashed into the wall barely missing his staff. Before he could react, he felt the cold blade of a wakizashi press against his throat. As he stared into the ninja's cold eyes, he felt something peculiar. It was a strange mixture of confusion and recognition. The eyes he saw were an icy blue, something he had seen years before. It tugged on him to figure out who was behind this mask.

In one swipe, he managed to free himself from the position with only a minor scratch on his neck. Grabbing the back of the ninja's head, he brought it towards his own with a head butt. The impact of the blow made the ninja go limp and Jonny shoved him off of himself. Taking his staff, he made for the door. But the feeling of curiosity set in again. Looking back to his opponent, he turned around to finally figure out who was behind this mask. With a careful eye, he slowly moved his hand over the mask and pulled it off. To his surprise, he found that his opponent was not a man but a woman; more like a girl. She looked only seventeen, with blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Her lips were a natural red that looked like she had lipstick on. And her features were extremely beautiful, with high cheek bones and even skin. Right away, Jonny knew who this person was.

"Nazz?" Jonny said. "It can't be."

As he sat in confusion, he heard the proud laughter of a man ring high. Jonny sprang into a defensive stance as a man turned the corner, applauding. Jonny recognized the man from the picture and prepared himself for battle. The man stopped clapping and opened his eyes, with a wide grin across his face.

"That, my friend" said the man, "was truly entertaining! You've proven yourself a capable warrior, monk."

Jonny glared at him in silence.

"She, however, was just a test. And by the looks of it, you two must have history."

Suddenly, the man's voice dropped from a boisterous loud to a killer's low.

"I know you, monk. I know what you've done in New Ontario. I've been tracking you for some time now."

"Why did you bring me here?" Jonny asked.

"Not only that, but that gang you wiped out was truly something. You're the only one I've seen in a long time to have taken out that many by himself. Truly a great warrior."

Slowly, the man pulled his sword from his sheath. Placing it in front of himself, he moved his feet into a fighting position. Jonny hovered over Nazz to protect her as he moved himself in a matching stance.

"But let's see you against a master, huh?"

In a flash, the samurai charged forward, sword held high. Jonny braced for impact. He knew it was on now.


	11. Chapter 11

_Las Vegas, Nevada_

 _12:35 PM_

Eddy's mouth hung open. His eyes widened in disbelief. Slightly chapped lips seemed to get drier and drier, causing him to reflexively lick them. He couldn't believe who was sitting in front of him in his chair, in his room. Perspiration began to accumulate around his forehead, held back by the skull cap he wore. His mind raced; who was this person and what was she doing in his home? He paid no attention to Scrap, who sat there with a perplexed look on his face. He asked Eddy a question, but he paid him no mind. As far as Eddy was concerned, Scrap was miles away.

Eddy still pondered over his own question. For the life of him he just could not remember who she was. The look in her eyes indicated she remembered him, though. Was she a Kanker sister, perhaps? No…no that couldn't be her. From what he remembered about the Kanker sisters, they were uglier than a dog's ass. Even worse, they thought dying their hair to imitate their punk rock idols made them look hot. She couldn't have been Nazz, either. Nazz was dead. Right? He abandoned Peach Creek long ago, just before they quarantined it. So, as far as he knew everyone was dead. At least he hoped so.

Before he could ponder any longer, the girl stood up to meet him. Tears began to form around her light green eyes, which then trickled down her olive cheeks. Before he could have time to react, the girl swarmed Eddy in a tight embrace. She buried her face into his shoulder and began to sob lightly. At once, Eddy came back to his senses. _Oh great_ , he thought. _This is exactly what I need._ If looking after a punk kid was hard enough, now he's got a crying girl on his arm. _It just gets better and better_.

"Eddy…" she said, quietly.

Before he could ask her who the hell she was, a sharp pain enveloped his cheek. In a split instant, another slap came across his shoulder. Eddy looked up to her in disbelief.

"What the fuck, lady?!" he shouted. "The hell's wrong with you?"

The girl's tear stained face turned beet red and she began to yell at him. Though she was yelling at him in Spanish, Eddy knew when he was being berated. His face began to heat up, his eyes narrowed. Before he could even understand what he was about to do next, he watched himself as he delivered his own slap across her cheek. The girl's eyes flustered with tears and for a moment she just stared at him in disbelief. In the next instant, she charged out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Still in disbelief, Eddy sat on the chair by the sink, melting into it while he clenched the space between his eyebrows.

"Well, that was interesting." Scrap said.

"Shut up, you little twerp." Eddy responded.

Scrap took the insult in stride. He waddled over to the kitchen, taking out a cream soda can from a box he swiped from a merchant three days ago.

"You know, it was pretty ballsy for you to slap her like that. I thought we weren't supposed to hit girls like that."

"I'm not in the mood for this shit, kid."

Scrap smiled.

"She told me everything. Told me how she basically searched the entire desert for months just for you. How she nearly died from bandit attacks before she got to this place."

Eddy stayed, simmering in annoyance.

"She also told me how you two first met; along I-80 in Wyoming. How she was traveling with her extended family when they came across you on a broken down dirt bike."

Eddy's teeth began to grind. His eyebrows furrowed in agitation.

"Yup. She also told me about how you and her spent weeks on the road, living it up like there was no tomorrow. She said it had to be the best time she ever had, and she began to like you more and more as days passed."

In a moment of clarity, Eddy took time to respect Scrap's persistence. No regular eight year old could speak and get in his head like that. Feeling the rage rush in again, Eddy stood upright out of his chair, knocking it back a few inches. He bared his teeth at Scrap, who only smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. _Damn it_ , he thought. _He got at me_. He chided himself for getting so worked up. If he was going to make it big, he was going to have to keep his emotions in check. If this was a test, he certainly failed.

Once the rage subsided, he sunk back into the chair. Slowly, he began to remember the girl. Everything that Scrap said was right. Every last bit. With a clear mind, he realized who she was. He remembered the caravan, the parties, the sleeping under the stars away from bandits and raiders. He, too, remembered it as being one of the best times in his life. But, his ambition was always abundant and he left her once he was closer to Las Vegas. But now that she was here…well, Eddy wasn't sure what to do now. With Scrap and the Calabro family being a handful as it is, how was she going to fit in all this?

With a resigned sigh, Eddy opened the door and stepped onto the walkway. Turning to his left, he saw her sitting with her back to the motel wall. She wept quietly, though just audible enough for Eddy to hear. A look of acquiescence on his face, Eddy walked over to her.

"Mia." Said Eddy, flatly.

She looked up to him, parting away the black, wavy hair that wasn't covered by her bandana. A look of sadness and hope came across her face.

"Let's head inside," he said. "It's been too long."

 **Author's note:** _Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated in a while. Life got in the way. I know this may not be part of the flow of the story, but I'm testing the waters with this chapter. Let me know what you guys think. Thanks, much love._


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